


Choices Best Left To Others (Who Knows Anymore)

by StrandsofNehn



Series: Viola Shepard [8]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Gen, Introspection, shepards thoughts with the catalyst, that kid kills me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 00:17:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5070496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrandsofNehn/pseuds/StrandsofNehn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard is at the end, and fuck- does it always have to be her choice?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choices Best Left To Others (Who Knows Anymore)

She didn’t remember anything of death. Still doesn’t, but she recognizes it. This is it. 

 This is it. 

She’s aware of every breath, only because of the pain. The pain isn’t specific, which she takes as a mercy. She doesn’t think she could handle feeling every broken part of her all at once- better this all inclusive stabbing, _ache_.

She thinks she tastes blood in her mouth as she struggles to stay upright, mind scrambling to make sense of what she’s seeing, what she’s hearing. What would Garrus say if he were here?

Her head hurts.

Oh god. She misses Kaidan. It’s been years since she left him to die. She left Grunt to die. Thane. Samara. _Ashley._

She knows she should be listening, she doesn’t have a lot of time. She’s reminded of the advice _she_ gave:

_“I grieved, later.”_

This must be later. She wouldn’t live past this. There wouldn’t be a later to grieve.

She hears a strangled yelp and the blasted reaper child finally shuts up but only to look at her with those eyes that have haunted her for months.

She’s crying, she can’t stop and the fucking- the fucking _thing_ \- goes on talking.

Can’t he see she’s tired?

Can’t he see she is already dead? Hasn’t she given enough? Decided enough?

Can’t someone _else_ make this fucking decision _for her_?

Whatever the outcome, she couldn’t see it. Wouldn’t see it. They were all shit choices and nothing made sense to her.

She needed to know all the consequences. Were the relays going to work again? Would the reapers actually leave the galaxy the fuck alone? Peace, harmony, full understanding? Don’t bullshit her. 

_Fuck, her head hurts._

She’s not sure why, maybe because she’s incapable of trust, maybe because of experience, intolerance, hope, fuck-- who knows, but she’s walking with her gun raised and Anderson--  god, _Anderson_ \-- in her ear.

She didn’t come as a diplomat, she isn’t a savior. She’s a soldier, short and simple. Even if history won’t remember her that way.

_And it was a privilege to know her._

She hopes so.

Inaction is not an option. She follows orders. And the orders were always simple: 

_Blow the reapers to hell._

She fires.


End file.
